


The Blade Wasn't What Hurt

by Semi_problematic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Loss of Limbs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: The blade wasn't what hurt.It was his father's face.





	The Blade Wasn't What Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what this is tbh

The blade wasn't what hurt. 

It was his father's face. The way he sobbed and shook at the idea of hurting his son. The way he begged for it to be him, begged for it to be anyone but Carl because he had been through enough. 

Rick always believed his job was to protect Carl. Carl believed his job was to love. Rick loved him no matter his mistakes. Rick loved him no matter the fights. And Rick loved him as he grabbed his arm and held it down against the rocks below them. 

Carl could hear Negan counting but he focused on his dad. Not on his face but his touch. The way his fingers touched Carl like he was going to break, the way he was careful not to pull his arm out too far. 

Carl always loved his father's hands. The way they would curl around the back of his neck oh so gentle. The way they stroked his hair and simply held his hand. Ricks hands never felt scary, not even when one held his arm down and the other gripped an axe. 

It was hard to focus on the touch. People were screaming and crying. Negan was shouting a mix of numbers and insults at Rick. Rick was silent, though, looking his son in his eye. The touch was warm on his hand. 

"I'm so sorry..." 

The blade wasn't what hurt. What hurt was that his arm was gone in two chops and his father was still holding it. What hurt was that he couldn't feel his father's touch anymore. In fact, the only warmth he felt was the blood surrounding his body, not the warmth of his father's hand.


End file.
